


look into my eyes (do you see something to defend?)

by silent_h



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, Introspection, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:57:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2310392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silent_h/pseuds/silent_h
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's still sane, though only just, and the sheer tenacity at which she digs her fingertips into her sanity and <em>holds</em>, makes her wonder if she's already lost it.</p>
<p>The Doctor isn't the only one who follows rule one, after all.</p>
<p>(and rule seven, no matter how much she wants to build a time machine and <em>run</em>, but the fact that she <em>can</em> is why she doesn't)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(and besides, she isn't scared)</p>
            </blockquote>





	look into my eyes (do you see something to defend?)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from Echo, by Foxes.

 The Doctor thinks it's the remembering, which makes her laugh, because she has no problem with the memories, not really.

No, what worries her is that she knows it's celery, but sometimes she thinks it might be a leek, a spring onion, and she's left scrambling for something insignificant that she already knows, that she _knows_  she already knows.

(she isn't stupid, she knows this, _remembers_ this)

Reckless, unwise, rash, thoughtless, yes, but even when computers didn't work for her (but they've always worked for her, haven't they?) she's never been stupid.

 

(and now there's so many _ideasinventionsdegreesplansthoughts_ in her head that she can’t _think_ )

 

It's funny really. Or maybe ironic.

 

(she never could tell the difference)

 

Words were never really her thing, she's always preferred numbers and electricity and science.

(apart from that one time, when computers didn't work for her, but she thinks that must have been a dream)

She sticks to words though, because numbers hurt, (though words have power, words _always_ have power and even she isn't suicidal enough to stare into the vortex) and machines hurt more.

 

(but she hurts machines too, every pastpresentfuture _possibility_ a million million times over, trapped in a human body and it _hurts_ , and the TARDIS still hates her but at least now she knows why)

 

She's in love with the Doctor, but not in love with _him_ , the man that wears old clothes and a young face, the man that dances at weddings and breathes in River Song like he's asphyxiating.

No, she's in love with the Predator, the Oncoming Storm, the _Doctor_ ; the _idea,_ not the man.

 

(because men break and die and _fall,_ and sometimes she gets a little tired of reality)

 

(or maybe reality gets a little tired of her; she should ask)

 

She kissed him once, (though _she_ never has), a Victorian woman with an itch under her skin, in her _blood_ , she kissed him, and he tasted like starlight and she thought he could, that he could-

 

Well. 

 

He showed her the sky and she fell through the clouds.

 

(joined the Alaska to see the universe, ended up stuck in a shipwreck first time out)

(travelled with the Doctor because she wanted to be selfish, wanted to be adventurous, wanted to be-)

 

(wanted to _be_ )

 

She's starting to see a pattern.

 

(the universe is so _terribly_ lazy)

 

She wonders sometimes if she should tell him how he dies, how he _lives_.

If she should tell him that he will never be ginger.

 

(wonders sometimes if she should tell him about the girl with the mass of ginger hair that does an awful lot of running)

 

(but then she thinks, _spoilers_ )

 

River Song would've been (could've been, should've been) ginger, but she tries not to think about that.

She was meant to go, to Demon’s Run, but she backed out, and a woman named Lorna took her place.

 

(without a drop of blood spilled; she tries not to think about that either)

 

(but she does, of course she does)

 

(how could she not?)

 

 

_Are you okay_ , he asks, his eyes bright and quick and sad and old and tired and _alien_.

 

She doesn't answer.

 

(he takes it to mean _yes_ anyway)

**Author's Note:**

> damn you moffat for making me fall in love with your damn characters and they have so much damn potential and you don't even


End file.
